


fluorescent

by city135



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Library, Crushes, M/M, Not Set in Korea, Post-it Notes, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-06 19:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16839148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/city135/pseuds/city135
Summary: Taeyong isn't sure what he's thinking (or if he's even really thinking at all) when he reaches for the sticky note and slips it into the first chapter of Johnny's book.





	fluorescent

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: character a, the librarian, slips a note into a book character b always reads at the library
> 
> i hope this follows what was expected from the prompt and to anyone reading: i hope you enjoy!

"This is due back in three weeks, have a nice day." Taeyong stands up and slides a slightly worn copy of _Tonal Harmony_ over the counter with what Ten calls his customer service smile.

The student (Jihoon Lee, his ID had said) nods with a curt smile of his own and shoves the book into his bag before sliding his headphones back over his ears and walking away.

It's his first week working in one of the university libraries, and he's learned that, unsurprisingly, not a lot of people want to check out books during syllabus week. He double checks the stapler to see if it's at least half full (it is) and adjusts the tape dispenser and scissors beside it, even though they're already straight.

It’s, honestly, a little dull, but that’s much better than the chaotic environment of working in dining services, so Taeyong can't really complain.

And he'd rather be assigned to the circulation desk instead of maintaining the computers and printers like Kun, who currently seems to be in mild pain as he watches some poor soul print out what appears to be an entire Organic Chemistry textbook.

Taeyong settles back down in his seat and checks his phone, glancing up to see if anyone needs assistance every few minutes.

**doglass** : attendance is mandatory for this class??? i am...Disgusted

 **10/10** : boooo!!!

 **TY** : drop it then???

 **doglass** : i kinda need it though...@.@

 **yukkuri** : it's not even a morning class

 **yukkuri** : you'll live u big baby

 **doglass** : show me SUPPORT

Taeyong snorts softly and flicks the group-chat shut, ignoring the next few messages from his roommates.

"Excuse me?" A low voice brings Taeyong's attention away from his phone, and he feels his cheeks warm up a little, embarrassed for not realizing someone was in front of him, waiting.

"Sorry," Taeyong says quickly and scrambles up to his feet. His eyes widen a little when he realizes _who_ is standing on the other side of the counter.

"No problem." The man is tall, with brown hair styled back. His lips are plush and curve up at the corners. "Just wanted to check this out." He places a book on the counter.

Taeyong knows three things about Johnny Suh (not that he's keeping a list, or anything):

  1. He sat in front of Taeyong in Introduction to Art History: Medieval to Modern last semester (and the back of his head is attractive, as far as backs of heads go).
  2. He always came to lecture (and the one time he didn't, he had turned to Taeyong and said: "Hey, would you be able to send me the lecture notes from Monday?").
  3. He likes fairy tales.



The third fact is a new, based on the hardcover book sitting between them, gothic script spelling out _Fairy Tales from Around the World_.

If he were one of his friends, he could have flashed a flirtatious grin and maybe rattled off some sort of book related pick-up line. But he's Taeyong Lee and he can only manage out soft, "Awesome. Cool. Yeah. You can do that."

"Thanks," Johnny chuckles, a sweet sound that makes Taeyong smile without realizing it at first.

"I need your student ID.”

"Of course, one sec." Johnny reaches to get his wallet, giving Taeyong a chance to admire him from the front instead of the back, the way Taeyong tended to whenever their professor went off on a tangent. Sharp jawline, pretty neck, nice shoulders.

Johnny places his card on top of the book, and Taeyong takes both, sitting down to scan them. He notices Johnny's ID was issued around the same date as Taeyong's, making him a third year student as well (he adds this fact to his non-list).

Taeyong scribbles the due date onto the library date sheet and tucks it in between the cover and the first page, then stands up, handing Johnny the book and his ID with a grin that's a little more genuine than most. "This is due back in three weeks, I hope you enjoy it. Have a nice day!"

"I'm sure I will, thank you." Johnny smiles, charming and handsome. "You too."

+++

Johnny, Taeyong casually notices, visits the library pretty often.

Or at least more than most people. Taeyong works three days a week, and in the past week and a half, he's seen Johnny three times (four if Taeyong counts catching a glimpse of him as he made his way out after his shift). He hasn't come back to the circulation desk though, usually making a beeline to the absolute war-zone that is the small computer and printing lab, or he studies — sometimes alone, sometimes with friends.

It's a Thursday afternoon when Johnny walks into the campus library, shaking off an umbrella. It's been raining since Monday, and at first it had been a welcomed break from the unforgiving heat of the extended summer. But now (after getting caught in a downpour yesterday with winds that made his own umbrella absolutely useless), Taeyong really wants the sun back.

He watches Johnny survey the computer lab to see if there are any seats open (there aren't), then his gaze slowly turns to the circulation desk.

Taeyong looks away quickly, chewing on the inside of his cheek, hoping Johnny hadn't realized he had kind of been staring.

**TY** : if i knew john suh came into the library all the time i would've applied for a job here sooner

 **yukkuri** : who?

 **doglass** : oh that hot guy from one of ur lectures last semester?

 **yukkuri** : oh Him

 **yukkuri** : dont u only know his name bc ur prof always took attendance

 **TY** : =(^•/////•^)=

 **10/10** : wait why dont i know about this

 **10/10:** u told doyoung AND yuta you liked someone but not Me?

 **10/10:** friendship with taeyong cancelled

Taeyong furrows his eyebrows, mouth forming a small pout.

Aside from the one question Johnny asked in class and The "Can I Borrow Your Notes?" Conversation (and the fact that he's been reading fairy tales), it's hard to tell what kind of person Johnny really is.

**TY:** pls………

 **TY** : it’s not like that

 **TY** : i dont rly know him?

 **yukkuri** : but you'd like to

 **TY** : =(^•////////•^)=

 **10/10** : u should talk to him!!

 **doglass** : ^

 **TY** : no thanks

 **TY** : he probably doesnt even remember me

 **TY:** it would be so awkward :(

 **10/10** : then dont bring up the class just try some

 **10/10** : ~casual conversation~

 **TY** : ))):

Taeyong sets his phone down, and luckily when he looks up, Johnny has wandered off to study or look through the stacks.

There's more people this week, though Taeyong suspects it could be because of the weather. One person asks to use one of the textbooks on rent, and maybe two others check out books, but most of the people who stop by the circulation desk are either lost freshmen, or people just there to use the stapler.

There's two small piles of books his manager had left for him to redo the spine labels. His co-worker, Seungcheol, thought it was tedious, and preferred to roll the cart around and return books to the stacks and make sure everything is in order. But Taeyong likes this. He likes meticulous work. Once he had gotten the hang of it, there's something soothing about the motions of it. And seeing a neat new label on a book always gives Taeyong a small sense of satisfaction.

Taeyong stretches his arms above his head and leans back in his chair once he finishes, a good half hour of his shift left. It's always the last hour that seems to drag on. The crowd at the computer lab had thinned out while he was working, and there weren't too many people left in the study area (at least on the first floor).

He rests his cheek on his palm, and with his other hand he reaches out for a pad of sticky notes, doodling with a ballpoint pen to pass the time.

It's still raining when Taeyong glances up at the wall of windows near the entrance. He sighs softly and sketches out the rough shape of an umbrella and big raindrops splashing down on it.

He thinks about Johnny and his navy blue umbrella and wonders if he likes the rain, or if he prefers cloudless skies. Does he like summer or winter more, fall or spring?

 _one of the best feelings_ , Taeyong finds himself writing in the leftover space of the square paper, _is when it finally stops raining. the smell of the earth. light shining through the clearing clouds. the warmth of the sun. puddles that fill me with the childish desire to splash around in them…._

He settles back in his seat and looks over he wrote. He wouldn't say these words aloud — or at least not like this. It’s always been easier for Taeyong to write things down instead of expressing them. It had started as doodling and writing in the margins of his notes in high school.

“Why don’t you try journaling, or something?” His sister had suggested, raising an eyebrow at his notes while she helped him study.

After that, it had become a tradition of sorts for Taeyong to get a new notebook on his birthday to fill up with to-do lists, lyrics and words and sentences he liked, sketches — anything that came to his mind. And when his book wasn’t with him, he’d reach for spare paper and let his pen flow until his boredom was cured or any nervousness was eased.

He takes another sticky note and fills it with more rain and clouds and umbrellas, then scribbles down a fact he had read somewhere in the corner: _we see rainbows at about a 42_ _°_ _angle relative to the light source (??)_

There's five minutes left of Taeyong's shift when he sees Johnny again.

"Good evening," Johnny says with a tired looking smile. He sets a book down on the counter.

"Hi." Taeyong stands up and offers a small smile back. "I hope you found everything you were looking for."

"I did, thank you." Johnny places his student ID on top of the book.

Taeyong wishes he could say more, wishes talking to people came easily to him like it did to Doyoung, who could just look at a person and seem to instantly figure out how to start up a conversation with them and easily find a topic they like. He scans the ID and the book, a little slower than usual, noting that at some point, Johnny had returned the fairy tale book. He glances at the sticky notes he had written on, then up to Johnny.

Taeyong isn't sure what he's thinking (or if he's even really thinking at all) when he reaches for the note with the rainbow fact and slips it into the first chapter while Johnny is checking his phone. He’ll keep the other one -- the longer one -- to stick into his journal.

Taeyong stands up and hands over the book and card with a smile. "This is due back in three weeks. Have a nice night."

Johnny nods and slides the book into his bag. "You too." He glances back at the windows. "Stay dry."

+++

The semester picks up.

Taeyong finds himself busy checking out textbooks for rent (and reminding people when their two hours are up, a little harried by the sheer amount of people who come in for the same subject) and wandering through the stacks to retrieve books for students. His manager somehow finds loads of books to re-label each week, and there's always one or two (sometimes even five) very lost freshmen each time Taeyong comes in for his shift, but it's nice, overall. He even gets time to work on his phonology homework in between everything else.

Johnny still comes in too, sometimes in a nicely pressed shirt and polished shoes, sometimes in sweats and a beanie pulled over his hair, glasses low on his nose.

He stops by the circulation desk from time to time, checking out books ranging from the latest fantasy novel that Taeyong knows nothing about to dry-looking titles Taeyong would never willingly pick up (for a person who works in a library, it's almost embarrassing how little Taeyong reads outside of classwork, manga, and random wikipedia articles he ends up on at two in the morning).

And for every book Johnny has checked out so far, Taeyong has managed to slip a note between the pages. He’s getting better and better at doing it subtly. He writes whatever comes to his mind first, sometimes tidbits from his lectures, facts he’s heard, song lyrics he likes (Mr. Brightside had been stuck in his head for a week straight and someone had to know about it):

_otters hold hands while they sleep so they don’t drift apart in the water :’)_

_it takes a microscopic amount of time for your brain to process every stimulus that you receive...this means that you are never perceiving reality in real-time? there’s a slight delay between reality and your perception of it_ _  
_ _(it makes sense but my two remaining brain cells are losing it)_

After the first sticky note he had placed in Johnny's book, and wondering _what the hell am I doing_ and _why did I do that_ for three whole days after, Taeyong settled on the comforting idea Doyoung had offered: Johnny didn't know the note was from him. There's nothing that tied Taeyong to a couple of sentences about the rain. Johnny didn't know his handwriting, since Taeyong had typed up the notes he sent. There wasn't anything bad about a few innocent notes that weren't even directly addressed to Johnny, right?

Even if half of him still felt like this was a disaster waiting to happen, another half of himself insisted that this could be alright.

Taeyong is finishing checking out an anthropology textbook on rent when Johnny approaches the circulation desk.

"I would've left this in the drop box, but the cover is kinda..." Johnny holds up a hardcover book that has seen far better days. He gently places it down on the counter with a wince.

"Thank you," Taeyong says sincerely. The book doesn't seem that old but the front cover is worn and the binding is a little undone. "I don't even wanna know what my manager would do if we had a book floating around with it's covers ripped off."

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make your job harder.” Johnny smiles kindly, different from the polite smiles he’s given Taeyong before. This is the kind of smile that transforms his whole face, going from a severe handsomeness with features that look like they were carved out precisely by Michelangelo or Bernini, to something so warm and soft and comforting that Taeyong swears he can feel his heart stutter in his chest.

"I hope you enjoyed..." Taeyong squints at the title. " _The Political Economy of East Asia_."

Johnny chuckles. "It was alright. Someone left their notes — or something — in there, though." He raises an eyebrow.

Taeyong wills away the blush he can feel rising to his cheeks and laughs, awkwardly. "Yeah, sometimes people leave stuff in books. Usually we take them out. I guess we missed this one..." He trails off and busies himself with checking the book in.

"It's not a problem, I can take them out next time." Johnny smiles wider. It’s a _really_ cute smile — Taeyong wants to see it more often. "They're interesting to see anyway."

"Yeah?" As Taeyong sets the book on the side, he realizes this is the longest conversation he's ever had with Johnny (or any library patron, for that matter).

"Yeah. There's something cool about seeing all these thoughts but not having a face to match it with. I dunno." His eyes flicker down to his phone. "I have class in like, ten minutes, so I'll see you around?"

"Have a nice rest of the day," Taeyong says, maybe a little too cheerfully. Johnny doesn't seem to mind though.

"You too," he says softly, and turns, leaving Taeyong to settle in his chair. Maybe the notes were a good idea after all.

+++

It's the second week of October when Johnny rests his elbows on the counter, leans forward, and says: "Hey, we had a class together, right? Last semester. You lent me your notes."

Taeyong nearly drops the book in his hand ( _The Penelopiad_ ), heart leaping into his throat at the thought of Johnny witnessing him place a sticky note on page sixteen.

"I wasn't sure at first," Johnny continues. And Taeyong doesn't blame him. Before the semester officially started, he had sat down with Yuta and bleached his hair for the first time, then dyed it bubblegum pink. It's fading now, and his roots are growing out — he isn't sure if he wants to put his scalp though the process of re-bleaching yet (or ever again). Plus, who really remembers the people from a 7PM lecture from months ago? "I didn't wanna say something in case I was wrong, but..."

"Intro to Art History," Taeyong says slowly. He feels his cheeks warm up under Johnny's gaze. He didn't think he'd be having this conversation while wearing cat ears (it was Jennie's idea for everyone to dress up a little this month in the spirit of Halloween, and this was the first thing he could find). "I hope my notes were, um, helpful."

"You take great notes. I feel bad for not thanking you properly."

"It's fine!" Taeyong insists, waving his hand. The short message Johnny had e-mailed him back had been endearing, complete with a “Johnny Suh :)” at the end. He quickly finishes scanning the book and writing out a due date, then slides it over the counter.

"Are you majoring in art history? Or..." Johnny raises an eyebrow, eyes flickering to Taeyong’s headband. His lips curl up into a small, playful grin. "Animal science?"

Taeyong scoffs, but he can't keep the grin off his face. The joke wasn’t particularly clever or funny, but Johnny looks so pleased with himself. "I'm majoring in psychology and minoring in linguistics. How about you?"

"Journalism and media studies with an Asian studies minor." That would explain at least half the books he checks out. Johnny opens his mouth to say more, but he's interrupted by someone behind him clearing their throat.

Taeyong tilts his head to peek behind Johnny and smiles apologetically when he sees a couple of people standing with books in hand, eager to move on with the rest of their days.

"Don't wanna hold up the line." Johnny says instead with a sheepish smile of his own. He slips the book into his bag. "I'll see you later — Taeyong."

"Yeah." Taeyong replies, voice stuck in his throat, mind stuck on the way his name rolls off Johnny's tongue. "See you."

+++

Something shifts after that.

Johnny waves when he walks into the library, flashing a sweet grin at Taeyong each time. He stops by the circulation desk to use the stapler there and asks Taeyong how his day is going, he tells Taeyong about his consumer culture class when he checks out books, peppering corny jokes (that Taeyong finds ridiculously charming) into their conversation when he can.

Taeyong doesn’t stop writing notes.

There’s something fun about it. Exciting. Even if he’s not getting replies, it feels like he can continue talking to Johnny, outside of the few minutes they have together at the library. 

_it's quiet when it snows it's quiet because it stacks up with space between flakes..._  
_so the sound waves have less surface area to bounce off of_

_when bones are buried in iron rich soil they turn red?? spooky.._

_broccoli cauliflower and kale are the same species_

Taeyong is sketching out a diagram of the Circle of Willis with color-coded notes when a shadow falls over the counter.

“What’s that?” Johnny squints down at the papers spread out in front of Taeyong. He’s got prominent dark circles under his eyes and his beanie is pulled down close to his eyebrows, a single strand of hair sticking out on the side.

“Getting a head start on studying for Neuro.” Taeyong frowns a little. There’s a can of RedBull on the counter next to Johnny’s elbow. Open drinks aren’t allowed in the library, and Taeyong is usually quick to tell people about the rule, but Johnny looks like he really needs it. “I don’t think I retained anything from lecture so I have, like, two weeks to learn everything.”

“I believe in you.” Johnny grins, exhausted but still warm and gentle. “I always see you studying when you aren’t working — you got this.”

Taeyong wants to protest, say he really isn’t smart enough to do that, but he holds his tongue. Ten’s been reminding him about how he needs to accept compliments and kindness more often. “Thank you,” he says softly. “Are you checking anything out today?”

“I’m hoping no one else has the economics textbook I need right now.”

“Can you write down the class and your professor’s name?” Taeyong reaches for a pen and a pad of sticky notes, then places them on the counter. “You have an exam soon?”

Johnny chews on his lower lip, looking somewhere between sheepish and self-depreciating when he says, “Tomorrow.”

“Johnny!”

“It’s in the afternoon, it’ll be _fine._ ”

Taeyong furrows his eyebrows. “Good luck.” He takes the sticky notes from Johnny, and when their fingers brush, Taeyong tries very hard not to think about how much he’d like to hold Johnny’s hand.

“I’m pretty sure we have a few copies of this book.” Taeyong tucks the pad of notes into the pocket of his hoodie. “I’ll be right back.”

Behind the circulation desk is a room full of shelves with textbooks on rent and books that were returned that need to be put back in the stacks. The textbooks are arranged by subject, and sure enough, there’s two copies of the book Johnny needs.

Taeyong pulls the book out and pauses. He thinks about Johnny’s tired eyes, how worn out he looks, then grabs the sticky note pad and scribbles down something he had seen in his notes earlier.

_REM sleep can help enhance creative processing and problem solving_

He sticks the note into the table of contents and hurries back.

“This is due back in two hours, but…” Taeyong lowers his voice. “There’s still another copy left, so if you stretch it to three, I won’t say anything.”

“Breaking the rules just for me?” Johnny smiles playfully and thankfully, only the computer screen witnesses Taeyong’s blush as he logs the rental in.

“This is a limited time offer, take advantage while you can.” Taeyong slides the textbook over the counter. “I hope you can get some rest after you exam.”

Johnny tucks the textbook under his arm and picks up his energy drink. “I hope so too.”

+++

The fourth floor of the library has a tiny section with art books that very few people know about. There’s an art history library on campus — one of the prettiest buildings in the university, in Taeyong’s opinion, with abstract paintings by alumni decorating the walls and sculptures at the end of halls — so students in that field don’t usually come to the larger general library that Taeyong works in.

So while it’s rare to have books to return to this section, it’s even rarer to see someone actually spending time in this aisle.

“Johnny?” Taeyong pushes his nearly empty cart forward, peering at the familiar figure crouched on the floor, head tilted to read the titles along the lowest shelf.

Johnny turns and stands up, grinning wide when he sees Taeyong. He’s cut his hair since the last time Taeyong’s seen him, the sides shaved. Like this, when he smiles, his cheeks seem even more prominent, even cuter. “Taeyong — you aren’t working at the circulation desk today?”

“My co-worker usually works in the stacks but he sprained his ankle so I’m filling in.” Taeyong drums his fingers along the handle of the cart. “What brings you here?”

“I’m kinda — teaching myself photography. I have been for a while.” His eyes seem to light up a little. “I thought I’d look through a few books to get new ideas, find some inspiration, y’know?”

“That’s awesome,” Taeyong says earnestly. Ever since last semester, he’s gained a whole new appreciation for photography, after learning the processes and early methods. “What do you usually photograph?”

“I actually have my camera with me,” Johnny says, already reaching for his bag on the floor and searching through it. He handles the small, professional-looking camera delicately. “If you wanna see.”

“Definitely!” Taeyong abandons the cart and — he’s always known Johnny is tall, but he didn’t realize _how_ tall he really is until now, standing next to him.

“It’s mostly scenery, stuff on campus.” Johnny goes through the photos slowly. He’s captured skylines at different times of the day and night, close ups of flowers and raindrops. Simple, mundane things made beautiful.

“You don’t photograph people?”

"Usually my roommate models for me — there he is." Johnny pauses when he reaches a photo of a handsome man with dimples. He looks familiar, but Taeyong can't place where exactly he's seen him. "Sometimes my friends do, too." He pauses. "Would you like to volunteer?"

"What?"

Johnny switches the mode on his camera and takes a step back, then points it at Taeyong, grinning behind the lens. His finger hovers over the shutter button, but he doesn't press down. "Do you want to model for me?"

Taeyong's eyes widen and he lets out a laugh in surprise. "Me? Are you sure about that?" But he moves anyway, shaking his head in disbelief as he poses against the shelves of books behind him, trying to hold a serious expression but bursting out in laughter seconds later.

"Excellent! Dynamic! Bold!" Johnny says after each pose, the shutter going off.

Taeyong giggles, feeling almost giddy with comment. "Johnny, _please_."

"Beautiful," Johnny mumbles into his camera and Taeyong turns red, sputtering.

He had said it so _easily_. Like Taeyong wasn't going to spend hours thinking about that one word later.

"I..." Taeyong doesn't know _what_ to say. He knows people think he's good-looking, though he isn't sure he's actually as handsome as they say. Compliments have always come from distant relatives, from his roommates, from random people on grindr — never from someone he liked this much. He didn't really date in high school and his experience the past three years hasn't gone far beyond a couple of dates with people he didn't really click with.

But it feels different with Johnny. Taeyong has never felt so instantly comfortable with anyone else before — not like this. And the more he gets to know Johnny, the more he likes him.

“Thank you.”

Johnny lowers his camera and gives Taeyong an absolutely heart-melting smile. "You really are."

And Taeyong thinks: This is it. This is a _moment_. It could be a moment. He could tell Johnny now, he really should, but he can't seem to put his thoughts into _words,_ too flushed and flustered to get anything out of his mouth.

"Oh, by the way." Johnny fills the silence naturally, and Taeyong isn't sure if he's thankful for it or wishes he had a little more time to find the courage to just blurt it out. "Did you know babies spent about fifty percent of their sleep in the REM stage?"

"Hm?" Taeyong blinks. "Oh — yeah. And adults spend a significantly less amount of time in REM."

The confusion must be clear on Taeyong's face because Johnny smiles and says: "It was something I came across while reading. Thought I'd mention it, since you're interested in Neuro and stuff."

"The sleep stuff is definitely interesting..." He trails off, watching Johnny carefully slip his camera back into his bag. "The art history library has a way better collection on photography, if you want to check it out — not that I'm saying you shouldn't come here anymore, or — uh."

"I was thinking about heading over there right now." Johnny slings his bag over his shoulder. "I'll see you later — I’m probably gonna be around later this week."

Taeyong nods. "See you! Let me know if you find something helpful."

"I will." And Taeyong _swears_ Johnny winks right before he turns to leave.

It's only when Johnny is gone and Taeyong is back to doing his job does it click: Economics textbooks, sticky notes, neuropsychology notes, _REM sleep_.

But if Johnny _knew_ Taeyong was slipping him little notes — he would've said something, right? This had to just be a coincidence.

Right?

+++

"Good luck on your exam." Seulgi offers a sympathetic smile as she pulls on her jacket.

Taeyong pouts and waves. "I'll definitely need it." He's pretty sure his Cognition professor is determined to make his life hell through this class. "Good night!"

Seulgi flashes another smile before heading out. She's sweet and considerate, and Taeyong wishes he had the chance to work with her more often — especially on dull days. But he rarely works in the evenings, and he doesn't plan on making it a regular shift. Jeonghan had all but begged him to cover for him tonight.

Taeyong stretches his arms and finishes packing up his bag. The library is still open for three more hours, so he might as well stay here and study. Taeyong knows he's not going to get much done if he heads back to the apartment now.

The study area on the ground floor is mostly full, and there's too many group studies going on for Taeyong to be able to focus. Taeyong wanders around the second floor, where there's cubicles against the wall and a couple of larger tables in clearings between the stacks. Taeyong isn't even surprised when he sees a Johnny at one of the tables, notebooks, papers, books, and a laptop spread out across the surface. Johnny probably spends even more time in the library than he does, and Taeyong gets paid to be here.

"Hey," Taeyong whispers, stopping by the table.

Johnny looks up and grins wide. Nothing really changed after The Camera Incident. Johnny still greeted him and talked to him the same way. Taeyong still isn’t sure if he’s happy about that, or if he wanted something different.

"If you're looking for a place to study, you can sit here." Johnny looks down at the table. "After I move my shit — I don't actually need all this space."

"You don't mind? There aren't a lot of open seats right now..." That's a lie — Taeyong can see an empty table near the _Ba-Bi_ aisle. If Johnny is aware of it, he doesn't say anything.

"What're you studying for?" Johnny organizes his papers into a neat stack. The heat is on too high, so he's just in a plain black t-shirt, hoodie hung over the back of his chair. His forearms are _nice_ and when Johnny reaches for a pencil that had rolled to the other side of the table, his shirt stretches to show off his biceps. Maybe deciding to sit across from someone so beautifully distracting was a mistake.

"Cognition. My professor thought it'd be fun to give us an exam a couple of weeks before our cumulative final." Taeyong slides into the seat and fishes through his bag for his laptop and notebook. "How about you?"

"That's rough." Johnny wrinkles his nose. "I'm getting started on my religion paper. Mostly because my roommate has someone over."

Taeyong laughs softly. "Nothing like being sexiled to get you to stop procrastinating, I guess."

Johnny chuckles, and they fall into an easy silence, focusing on their own work.

It’s easier than Taeyong thought it would be to concentrate, but he does find himself glancing up, every so often when he gets tired of typing. Johnny seems to have a habit of biting his lower lip while he’s focused. _Cute_.

Three hours pass by quickly, and words seem to be swimming in front of Taeyong’s eyes when a deadpan voice announces over the speaker: “ _The library will be closing in ten minutes, please make your way to the circulation desk in the next five minutes if you’re checking out any books. The library is closing in ten minutes_.”

Taeyong peeks over his laptop to find Johnny with his arms folded over the table, pillowing his head, laptop and papers pushed to the side. “Johnny?”

Johnny seems to be fast asleep though, and Taeyong’s chest warms at the sight of his pouty lips and the way his hair falls over his face in soft, messy strands. He packs his bag, then makes his way to Johnny’s side of the table and hesitantly taps his shoulder. “Johnny, the library is closing.”

Johnny stirs and stretches his arms out in front of him sleepily. He reminds Taeyong of a cat. “How long was I out..?”

“I dunno, but it’s almost midnight.”

Johnny rises to his feet slowly and pulls his hoodie and jacket on, then quickly packs his bag. “Thanks for waking me up.”

“As if I’d just leave you here.” Taeyong smiles as they go downstairs, shoulders brushing. There aren’t too many people left in the library now, and most of them look as tired as Johnny does.

“Hey, are you part of a dance crew?” Johnny asks suddenly, voice still thick with sleep. “I forgot to ask you earlier.”

Taeyong hums. “NCT — NeoCultureTech. How’d you know?”

“My roommate knows someone in the crew. He went to see NCT’s performance on Tuesday and I tagged along.” He nudges Taeyong’s arm. “So. You’re, like, incredible.”

Taeyong beams, that warm feeling washing over him again. “I don’t know about _incredible_.”

“You seriously are — the way you move, your presence.” Johnny steps forward to hold the door open for Taeyong. “Would you mind if I came to a performance and took photos?” He pauses. “I take pictures for the school paper sometimes.”

“I’d never say no to free publicity for the crew.” Taeyong grins. Maybe it’s because he’s tired, maybe it’s because of that weird energy of being in a library so late at night, but he’s feeling a brave when he says: “I wouldn’t say no to you taking photos of me just because you feel like it either.”

Johnny’s cheeks seem to turn pink. But it could just be because of the cold air.

They slow to a stop once they reach the end of the block.

“I live on the other side of campus.” Johnny slips his hands into his pockets. There’s another library that would probably be easier for Johnny to study in, but Taeyong doesn’t mention it. Instead, he smiles and adjusts the straps of his bag.

“Good night, Johnny.”

+++

Taeyong idly flips through his journal, looking at old lists and doodles. It’s a slower day, and while Taeyong _could_ do his semantics homework or get a head start on his study guide, he really doesn’t _want_ to. The four days of fall break went by too fast and the quick descent into hell is about to start. So naturally, the demon that is procrastination has him firm in its clutches 

**doglass** : are there a lot of people in the computer lab rn?

 **TY** : uhh

 **TY** : looks like there’s abt 6 seats open rn??

 **doglass** : Excellent…..

 **doglass** : i’ll be there soon!

Taeyong sets his phone down and flips to a page where he had copied a poem down twice — once in neat cursive, one in rushed handwriting to imitate the feeling of the words.

He doesn’t read poetry that often, and he hasn’t tried to write poems of his own, but he had come across this in a class and something about the words, the way they ran together, had stuck with him. And while he can’t say he totally relates to every word and situation spelled out — there’s something about the urgency of the words, the affection in them, that makes Taeyong think of Johnny.

Taeyong reaches for the blue sticky notes on the desk and copies his favorite part down.

_“...I look  
_ _at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together for the first time*…”_

“Hey.” Doyoung approaches the circulation desk and rests his forearms on the counter just as Taeyong carefully sticks the note next to the keyboard. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m not really supposed to eat here,” Taeyong says, even as he stomach grumbles at the mention of food.

“Well — I just stressed baked a bunch of cookies instead of doing my paper, and Yuta and Ten weren’t in the apartment to have any of them, so…” Doyoung holds up a paper bag. They must still be hot, because Taeyong can smell chocolate and the hint of cinnamon Doyoung tends to add to a lot of his desserts.

And because Taeyong is weak and Doyoung is great at baking, he takes the bag with a small, “Thank you.” What his manager doesn’t know won’t hurt him. He quickly takes a bite of one cookie, sighing as it practically melts in his mouth.

Doyoung narrows his eyes. “Don’t use this is as a substitute for lunch, though.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Taeyong drawls and takes another bite. Sometimes even he forgets which one of them is older.

Doyoung scoffs, reaching across the counter, and Taeyong bats his fingers away before they can even _attempt_ to pinch his cheek. Of course, Doyoung isn’t one to just give up so easily. Not much has changed in nine years of friendship. So that’s how Johnny finds them: teasing each other like absolute children.

“Johnny.” Taeyong stands up and Doyoung pulls away. “Hi!”

Johnny grins, looking between the two of them, and raises an eyebrow. “Am I interrupting something?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “This is my best friend and roommate, Doyoung. He’s _supposed_ to be working on a paper.” He gives Doyoung a _look_. “And Doyoung, this is…” He gestures to Johnny. What could Taeyong call him? An acquaintance? A friend? The recipient of many anonymous notes? “This is Johnny.”

“Nice to meet you,” Johnny says warmly. He isn’t just polite — he sounds like he really means it.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Doyoung gives Johnny a quick once over, pausing on the book in his hand. His eyes flicker to Taeyong. He looks like he wants to say more, but he just smiles wider, showing off his gums. “I’ll leave Taeyong to you, then. Before the computer lab fills up.”

While Doyoung hurries off to find an open seat, Johnny places a thick book on the counter, his ID on top. _Harry Potter_ , the spine of the hardcover reads.

“Childhood favorite,” Johnny explains before Taeyong can even ask. “Have you read the series?”

“It’s been a while since I have,” Taeyong admits. His phone buzzes incessantly, undoubtedly Doyoung texting him about Johnny. “The third one was my favorite, though.”

“A classic,” Johnny hums in acknowledgement.

Taeyong glances at the sticky note he had written on. This one was different from the earlier ones, somehow more personal and intimate, even if the words weren’t his own. The notes before had been more general, or focused on Taeyong, and this one felt like it was reaching out to Johnny, even if it isn’t super obvious. “What House would you want to be in?”

“Gryffindor.” Johnny’s voice is bright. Taeyong’s heart swells a little at the thought of Johnny curled up with a stack of _Harry Potter_ books, immersing himself in the magical world, finding joy in it each time he reads. “How about you?”

Taeyong stealthily sticks the note near the beginning of the book as he slides in the card with the due date over the title page. “What do you think I’d be?”

Johnny leans against the counter, eyebrows furrowed. He stares at Taeyong, analyzing him. Like he’s the Sorting Hat himself, or something. “Ravenclaw..?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Taeyong grins and hands Johnny the book, gaze lingering on the cover. This will probably be one of the last few notes, if not the last. His schedule is weird for the rest of the semester, with final papers, reading days, and exams causing everyone to switch their shifts around. Plus, after a note like this, Taeyong doesn't know what else to say other than flat out telling Johnny how he feels. And he still isn’t sure how to go about that yet. Sometimes it feels like there could be _something_ between them, and other times — Taeyong just isn't sure. “I think I’m more of a Hufflepuff, though.”

“I can definitely see that.” Johnny packs the book away. “I gotta go to class now. Enjoy the rest of your day, yeah?”

“I’ll try.” Taeyong waves with a small smile. “Have fun reading.”

+++

“Looks like your number one visitor is here again.” Soonyoung grins, almost cheekily, and nods in the direction of the the main entrance. Taeyong’s known him since sophomore year, when he joined NeoCultureTech, and they had become close after after being assigned as partners for one performance. Soonyoung is the one who had recommended the library job in the first place.

“Hmm?” Taeyong replies sleepily. He’s exhausted. It’s the last week of classes before reading days and finals, and he really does not want to be here right now. But he follows Soonyoung’s gaze, and seeing Johnny undoing the scarf around his neck is already making his shift significantly better. “What d’you mean?”

“He checks out a lot of books, doesn’t he?”

“So?” Taeyong turns back to look at Soonyoung, his brows furrowed. “People like to read.”

“We all see him around all the time, but it looks like he only stops by the circulation desk when you’re on duty.”

Oh. Taeyong swallows. Because surely that isn’t true. And if it is, it’s probably just a fluke.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Soonyoung stands up and pats Taeyong’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go see if Wonwoo needs me.”

“With what?” Taeyong looks over to where Wonwoo is half-monitoring the computer lab, half-studying. “Pretty sure refilling printer paper is a one-person job.”

“Then I’ll make sure he doesn’t get papercuts.” Soonyoung grins and flits away just as Johnny approaches the circulation desk. His cheeks are pink from the cold, and Taeyong kind of wants to kiss them until they warm up.

“Hey,” he says softly, and reaches into his bag. “I’m just here to return this.”

Johnny places _The Order of the Phoenix_ on the counter, and Taeyong’s stomach bubbles with with nervousness. He wonders if Johnny saw the note, what he thought about it.

“I can’t believe you decided to read a, like, 800 page book during finals season.”

“Stress relief.” Johnny fiddles with his scarf. “Listen, I’m in a rush — my TA is doing a review. I think I left some notes in there. Could you take it out for me?”

“Oh.” Taeyong bites the inside of his cheek. “Sure.”

“See you later, Taeyong.” Johnny smiles gently, and Taeyong almost wants to tell him that they might not see each other for the rest of the semester because of finals schedules. But Johnny is already turning to head outside again, taking long strides and disappearing as quickly as he had come in.

Taeyong looks down at the book in his hands, the blue hardcover worn and well-loved. Near the center of the book, tucked between chapter twenty five and twenty six, there’s a sheet of paper folded up neatly. Taeyong is curious about what type of notes Johnny could’ve written about _Harry Potter_ , why he was even writing notes if this was just something to read to de-stress. He chews on his lower lip and unfolds it slowly, treating it like a delicate artifact — and it may as well be.

The lined page is mostly blank, but in the center is a sentence, underlined with a fluorescent orange highlighter, flanked by quotation marks on either side. The handwriting is a wider than Taeyong’s own, a little messier with rounded letters. And as Taeyong reads it, he can practically feel his heart inching into his throat, ears and cheeks heating up, and he’s sure his blush is spreading all the way to his chest. He traces his fingers over the black ink over and over, as if to see if it’s real or not.

Because it isn’t just any quote, it’s a fragment of a poem, one Taeyong has read over so many times since last week that he knows it by heart. It’s the line that followed what Taeyong had written out:

_“...and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me*…”_

It’s a reply.

+++

Working on the last day of finals feels kind of useless. Taeyong is mostly checking for overdue books and sending out notifications. Barely anyone is in the library aside from staff, and the few people who do stop by just leave their books in the dropbox. Taeyong had finished his exams yesterday and could've gone home, but he isn't going to say no to more money — especially when he's getting a bonus for working during finals.

Plus — he's hoping Johnny will come in some time today. After that note, he can't not see Johnny one more time. Especially if it means what Taeyong thinks it means.

And sure enough, nearly three hours into his shift, the door opens and Johnny makes his way to the circulation desk, brisk and determined, a radiant smile taking over his face.

"Look who survived finals," Taeyong greets, his grin mirroring Johnny's. "Was your last one today?"

"I finished on Tuesday. Spent the last few days sleeping, binge-watching Black Mirror, and packing — not in that order." Johnny holds up the book in his hand for Taeyong to see. "I tried returning this yesterday, but you weren't here."

"I had my Neuro exam yesterday, but I can promise anyone here could have checked the book in just as well as I do." He raises an eyebrow at the book Johnny hands over. "I didn't know you were into...What is this? Is this a physics book?”

"Honestly? I have no idea. I picked up the first thing I could find." Johnny’s cheeks tinge pink. "I needed an excuse to come back to the library and see you again."

"And why's that?" Taeyong is proud of himself for not sounding as flustered as he feels.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Taeyong reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out the folded sheet of lined paper he had read over more times to count the past week. He unfolds it carefully, then looks up at Johnny.

Johnny digs into the pocket of his winter coat and pulls out a can of Coca-Cola, placing it on the counter, next to the paper. Taeyong's lips twitch into a broad smile. “Having a Coke with You*, Frank O’Hara.”

Taeyong nods. He traces his finger over the rim of the counter. "So you know all those notes from before were from me…?”

"I caught on early on, I think. After the first few notes, I noticed the handwriting was similar, even if you tried to change it up. And I only got notes when you were working — the note about REM sleep confirmed it."

"But why didn't you say say anything if you knew?" Maybe they could’ve been having this conversation weeks ago.

"I mean — you seemed kinda shy to me, and I didn't want to put you on the spot like that. Especially if I was wrong. Plus the notes were fun. Cute. I didn't want to stop getting them." Johnny pauses. "I like you, just to be clear."

"Me too." Taeyong laughs softly, feeling warm and jittery in the best way possible. "I like you, too."

The look on Johnny’s face is fond and gentle. “I know the timing isn’t great, but — give me your number? We could text over break?” He takes his phone out. “And as soon as we get back, I’m taking you out. On a date.”

“I can’t wait.” Taeyong grins and enters his number into Johnny’s phone, adding a smiling emoji next to his name. This almost doesn’t feel real. “Where’s home for you?”

“Chicago.” Johnny chuckles when Taeyong pouts. Chicago is _far_. Taeyong is lucky his family lives just about two hours away from the university. “I’m heading out around 3.”

“My shift ends in—” Taeyong glances at the clock “—fifteen minutes. Maybe we have enough time for me to take you out for lunch?”

“I’d really like that. But for now…” Johnny cracks open the can of soda.

"No open drinks in the library," Taeyong teases, no heat in his voice.

"Bend the rules for me one more time?" Johnny leans against the counter, coy. “Don’t you want to share this?”

Taeyong laughs softly. “Just this once,” he says, as if he hasn’t broken the library rules before, for himself and Johnny. And he’ll probably do it again. He takes a small sip, then hands the drink to Johnny, their fingers brushing when Johnny takes the can.

"Why that poem, by the way?"

"I liked the flow of it? It kinda felt like you could put yourself in his place — to me, at least." Taeyong watches Johnny take a sip. "And I thought, since we took an art history class together and all the works mentioned in it, you might like it, too..?"

“I really did!” The look in Johnny’s eyes when he gets excited is so lovely, Taeyong could watch him talk for hours. “I ended up reading a bunch of his other work, too.”

They talk for the rest of Taeyong’s shift — about O’Hara, about finals, about the the tiny Japanese restaurant just off campus that Taeyong has become a regular at — passing the can of Coke between each other until it’s empty. And when Taeyong pulls on his jacket and steps away from the desk for the last time this semester, Johnny slips his hand into Taeyong’s, and it feels so natural — like they’ve been doing this all along. And he’d love to get used to Johnny’s fingers tangled with his own.

It had started to snow earlier, and like this — nearly empty streets decorated in shallow foot prints, the beginnings of icicles hanging off buildings, snowflakes fluttering down and catching in Johnny’s hair — the campus seems enchanting. Like something out of a movie, or a novel.

But what isn’t like a movie: The patch of ice on the sidewalk that neither of them see, Taeyong skidding and Johnny nearly falling over, almost dragging both of them down onto the half-cleaned sidewalk.

“Careful!” Taeyong laughs, bringing his free hand to hold Johnny’s hip, steadying him. “I wasn’t planning on playing nurse on our first date.”

“How many dates until you do?” Johnny raises an eyebrow.

Taeyong flushes bright red. He squeezes Johnny’s hand, beaming when Johnny squeezes back. “Let’s find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> *The poem referenced is [Having a Coke with You by Frank O'Hara](https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/having-coke-you)
> 
> thank you for reading <3 i hope this was alright
> 
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/spideycity127/) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/spideycity)


End file.
